


Following

by frankenbolt



Category: Bottom (UK), The Young Ones
Genre: Crossover, Implied Pairings, M/M, Mistaken Identity, Unwanted attention, Well - Freeform, if you take the live shows as canon, richie and eddie are canonically married so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2020-06-24 18:40:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19729504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frankenbolt/pseuds/frankenbolt
Summary: Eddie winds up in the Kebab and Calculator and hilarity ensues.





	Following

**Author's Note:**

  * For [awesomesauce1881](https://archiveofourown.org/users/awesomesauce1881/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Plots](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14495196) by [awesomesauce1881](https://archiveofourown.org/users/awesomesauce1881/pseuds/awesomesauce1881). 



> Despite a reference to the Turdis from "Bottom Live 2003: Weapons Grade Y-Fronts Tour", take it as read that this is "Bottom Live 3: Hooligan's Island (1997) aged Richie and Eddie.
> 
> What a weird thing to have to clarify...anyway.
> 
> This is for awesomesauce1881, based broadly on one of their prompts.

“Eddie.”

“...Pauline? What are you doing here?”

The hazy approximation of his half-sister snorted and thudded the full pint glass onto the bar in front of him, sending a minor frothing wave of larger spilling onto his overcoat. “What does it look like I’m doing, dickhead? I work here.”

“Ah.” Eddie glanced around, taking in the peeling posters on the walls, the handful of young men and women sat in various corners on mismatched furniture, and the endless loop of four chords buzzing on the jukebox. “...Aw christ, I’m in a student bar.”

“No shit.” She hissed. “Now drink this and get out, I’m not supposed to serve non-students, and especially not my bald twat of a brother.”

“Why bother serving me at all?” Eddie was already gulping it down, keen to get the hell out of the Kebab and Calculator. 

“Because you already paid.”

“Wot?! You made your own brother pay full whack?”

“HALF-brother.”

“Your own flesh and blood?!”

“Shift it before I call the manager.”

Staggering backwards, Eddie clutched his hands over his chest, wiping away a fake tear. “I don’t know what the world is coming to these days-”

“OUT!”

“-when family means nothing! Where’s the love gone between us, Pauline? What would dear old Mum say?”

“We don’t bloody well know, now do we? Considerin’ she bailed when you were born and left me at four years old to look after you! Now PISS OFF!”

“HARPY!”

“DEGENERATE!”

Eddie flicked the Vs at his sister by way of goodbye and stumbled towards the door. The sooner he got out of this shit hole the better. Not that the Lamb and Flag was much better but at least it was his local.

Why had Richie dragged him to this side of Hammersmith anyway? 

Wait...where was that prick anyway? 

This thought startled him so much that he smacked into the shoulder of a young man talking to a small group of students by the door. In his inebriated state, Eddie of course took this for a slight and immediately raised his fists.

“OH SO IT’S A FIGHT IS I-?!”

The young man had lost his footing and stumbled to turn around- and Eddie felt as if the clocks had spun backwards two or three decades.

He looked the spit of Richie when they’d first met, well dodgy hair and clothes aside (as if Richie Richard would ever WIN a Blue Peter badge). Same big soft -if uneven- eyes, same petulant little sneer of a mouth, same sharp beak of a nose. If it wasn’t for the smattering of acne and the slighter build, there’d be no doubt in his mind it was him.

Well. If it hadn’t been for the thick beer goggles clouding Eddie’s vision, there’d have been doubt. But considering the state he was in…

“Richie!” He fell forward and the younger version of his flatmate was forced to catch him. “You look...you look better! I only looked a way for...shit how long has it been since I last saw you?”

Rick Pratt was not impressed.

He threw the bald bespectacled man off of him and stepped backwards when he attempted to follow him, the disgust clear across his face. He smelled rancid, like he’d been drinking for months without stopping.

“I don’t know who you’re talking about but my name is Wick-”

Eddie’s eyes lit up behind the smeared lenses of his glasses and he cooed “Awww...has wickle Wichie suddenly got a speech impediment? When’d you pick that up? When you went back in time?” He gasped and grabbed hold of Rick’s lapels. “Have you been mucking around in the Turdis again?!”

“Let go of me!” Rick desperately looked for his classmates he’d been chatting to but they’d seemingly disappeared into the gloom of the bar, leaving him alone to deal with this overly clingy drunk. “And I think it’s vewy wude to talk about how someone speaks, by the way!”

Eddie let out a raucous crow of laughter and tried to wrap his arm around this young Richie. “Oh it’s “vewy wude”-” another burst of slurred giggling burst forth. “- now go on tell us your secret, how come you’re all fit and..and…” He gestured vaguely at Rick’s face. “...and young and…” He squinted at Rick. “...pretty all of a sudden?”

That’s when Rick decided to make a run for it.

Unfortunately, Rick had been counting on baldy being too drunk to follow him.

“RICHIE! RICHIE WAIT UP!”

“STAY AWAY FROM ME YOU CWEEP!”

Ten minutes later he was wrenching the front door of the share house open and trying to bar the man from following after him, but baldy was stupidly strong. Not unlike-

“Is there someone at the door, Rick?”

Vyvyan stood by the stairs, a hammer in one hand and SPG in the other, watching as Rick tried to use his body weight to keep someone from coming in.

“Oh EXCELLENT use of observation skills, Vy-v-yan!” Rick panted. “Help me keep this pervert out! He’s been following me since the pub!”

Dropping the hammer and hamster immediately, Vyv stormed over to the door and yanked it open, heedless of Rick’s panicked cry, ready to beat on who ever it was that was following his-...his…-RICK. 

Only to blink down at the mildly hysterical form of his favourite uncle. “Oh. Hello, Uncle Eddie.”

Eddie paused in his frantic pounding on the door to stare up into the spotty face of his nephew...and then grabbed onto the younger man’s ankles and wrestle him to the floor.

“HELP! NEIL! CALL THE PIGS!” Rick wrung his hands together in alarm as the Hitler-Basterd family reunion continued in front of him, resulting in Eddie’s hat being flung off as Vyvyan smashed his knuckles into his uncle’s cranium, and Vyvyan grunting as Eddie winded him with several punches to the gut, their combined legs managing to kick the door shut.

Neil meandered out of the drawing room to frown mournfully at Rick. “But you’re standing right next to the phone-”

“IT’S YOUR RUDDY JOB NEIL-”

The violence and yelling trailed off as several very polite knocks sounded at the front door. When no-one moved to open it, the knocks turned a little more hostile. Then when no-one moved to open it this time-

“OPEN THIS RUDDY DOOR, EDWARD ELIZABETH HITLER!”

Rick frowned as he tried to place the voice, momentarily forgetting about the bald creep, who hiccuped in joy as he stood up and flung the door open. “Richie!”

Vyvyan’s almost non-existent eyebrows pushed themselves impossibly high as he saw the man on the other side of the door. Same tawny hair if only much longer. And the same big blue- if uneven- eyes, if only lined with what would be called wisdom on some people, but couldn’t be said about this bloke. Exactly the same as his...well...his Rick only softer around the middle and with a smattering of grey around the temples.

“You!”

The older Rick...Richie, as Uncle Eddie had called him, turned and looked dismissively at his Rick as he exclaimed and pointed- only for a wide and insincere smile to spread across his face.

“Nephew!” Richie threw his arms wide and took a step forward to embrace Rick, only for Rick to sneer back.

“That westraining order is still valid, Uncle Wichard! Just ‘cuz my parents are dead doesn’t mean you can come within ten yards of me!”

“Shit!” Richie snapped his fingers in disappointment. “Worth a shot. Oh well, come along Eddie.”

“Oh so that’s Uncle Richard!” Vyvyan’s expression cleared as Richie and Eddie left without a goodbye. “That makes a lot more sense.”

“I never told you about him, Vyvyan!”

“Not you!” Vyvyan pushed himself to his feet. “Uncle Eddie told me about him in my last letter.”

“He’s not YOUR Uncle, Vyvyan!”

“Yes he is! By Marriage.” Vyvyan seemed to ponder something for a moment, and then took off out the door. “HEY! UNCLES! Fancy going for a pint?! Never got an invite to the wedding, now did I?!”

“WHAT? VYVYAN, WAIT-” Rick raced out after him.

Leaving Neil staring in mild confusion after them, wondering if it was worth still calling the Pigs or not.


End file.
